no man's land
udaipur-bundi-chittaur-mt. abu-the rann of kutch
a few days ago summer arrived and the sweat is dripping off of me like so many tears of joy. i'm writing now from the rann of kutch, the northwestern desert of gujarat. journeying out into the desert is a dusty affair and no day passes without skin, clothes and hair becoming hopelessly caked with salt and earth. the landscape here is unrelentingly harsh, daring its inhabitants with extreme heat, barren landscape and the threat of another massive earthquake. everything gets cracked one way or another- the earth, the buildings, my skin.
as with all of india, kutch is changing quickly. i've had to content myself with being a local bus pilgrim and one day out in a diesel belching 1965 taxi cab. this is because most of the desert accomodation is in the form of expensive eco-tourism far out of my budget. i'd feel happy about that if it weren't an initiative from the same government selling off everything left, right, centre and behind to chemical and salt factories blackening the blueblueblue sky. what does it matter where a few tourists shit when factories are churning out buckets of sludge into the marshes? it was an economic decision to do so in order to build funds for earthquake relief, but at what greater cost?
kutch is also heavily guarded by the military due to its proximity to pakistan. from one place i stayed you could see part of it across the gulf. heading out into nothingness one reaches invisible lines where heavily armed soldiers indicate DO NOT CROSS. it's bizarre to see the vastness and hard beauty of this place and to think that it is something to be owned. imagine a military outpost in the salt flats with nothing but pure white earth as far as the eye can see. it's both absurd and distressing.
looking out across kutch, i remember that in the end, all land is no man's land. you can draw as many lines as you want and stockpile as many guns as it please you but the sun still shines everywhere and the wind blows where it wants. we are born naked and we die naked; everything in between is simply on loan. sadly, even if we can own nothing we can still destroy everything and call it development or security. i can't help but feel that as a race we are totally screwed and sadly we're taking everything down with us. i am thankful for so many beautiful days in this place and that i have had a chance to see it before it is totally destroyed ( a destruction which i myself have now been a part of). walking alone in the emptiness i have felt true peace and i lament the violence being done all around.
a few days ago summer arrived and the sweat is dripping off of me like so many tears of joy. i'm writing now from the rann of kutch, the northwestern desert of gujarat. journeying out into the desert is a dusty affair and no day passes without skin, clothes and hair becoming hopelessly caked with salt and earth. the landscape here is unrelentingly harsh, daring its inhabitants with extreme heat, barren landscape and the threat of another massive earthquake. everything gets cracked one way or another- the earth, the buildings, my skin.
as with all of india, kutch is changing quickly. i've had to content myself with being a local bus pilgrim and one day out in a diesel belching 1965 taxi cab. this is because most of the desert accomodation is in the form of expensive eco-tourism far out of my budget. i'd feel happy about that if it weren't an initiative from the same government selling off everything left, right, centre and behind to chemical and salt factories blackening the blueblueblue sky. what does it matter where a few tourists shit when factories are churning out buckets of sludge into the marshes? it was an economic decision to do so in order to build funds for earthquake relief, but at what greater cost?
kutch is also heavily guarded by the military due to its proximity to pakistan. from one place i stayed you could see part of it across the gulf. heading out into nothingness one reaches invisible lines where heavily armed soldiers indicate DO NOT CROSS. it's bizarre to see the vastness and hard beauty of this place and to think that it is something to be owned. imagine a military outpost in the salt flats with nothing but pure white earth as far as the eye can see. it's both absurd and distressing.
looking out across kutch, i remember that in the end, all land is no man's land. you can draw as many lines as you want and stockpile as many guns as it please you but the sun still shines everywhere and the wind blows where it wants. we are born naked and we die naked; everything in between is simply on loan. sadly, even if we can own nothing we can still destroy everything and call it development or security. i can't help but feel that as a race we are totally screwed and sadly we're taking everything down with us. i am thankful for so many beautiful days in this place and that i have had a chance to see it before it is totally destroyed ( a destruction which i myself have now been a part of). walking alone in the emptiness i have felt true peace and i lament the violence being done all around.
posted by natalie at 3:51 AM
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